


The Silver Doe, Part II

by BeastOfTheSea



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Domestic Violence, Gen, Mild Stockholm Syndrome, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-16
Updated: 2012-09-16
Packaged: 2017-11-14 09:40:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/513877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeastOfTheSea/pseuds/BeastOfTheSea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>I have seen your heart, Ronald Weasley…</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Silver Doe, Part II

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I'm not J.K. Rowling.

First it was a job at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, then a job as an Auror. He accepted the jobs with a shrug; it wasn’t more than he was expecting. He was lucky to get them, he supposed. Working for George wasn’t that bad, even if George called him “Fred” half the time, and if, every time he stepped into the store at the beginning of a day, he had the sense he was walking in a dead man’s shoes…

_Second best, always…_

Working for Harry wasn’t bad, either; he could talk some sort of sense into Harry when he was in one of his rages against officials who wouldn’t let him take the steps he wanted or, later, against subordinates who hesitated before following his orders… or at least Harry would round on him first and leave everyone else be. That made him popular in a certain odd way: people weren’t friendly to him, but he caught them throwing guilty glances in his direction, and Kevin Entwhistle once mumbled a “Thank you” at him before turning and fleeing before he could respond. It wasn’t so bad – whenever he wasn’t burning down to an explosion of wrath or in the throes of the explosion itself, Harry was a reasonable boss. A bit cracked, but reasonable.

Right, sometimes he’d caught him “conducting an unofficial investigation of the affairs and doings of Draco Lucius Malfoy” – said “unofficial investigation” violating several laws, turning up nothing, and coming off as bloody creepy besides – but Harry insisted it was only because Malfoy needed to be watched, _as Ron ought to know_. He’d let it go… even though he’d nearly choked on guilt when a desperate Malfoy had filed a request with the Aurors for protection, swearing that he was being followed by an invisible adversary at all hours of the day, his locked doors and carefully-filed papers were constantly being found ajar and in disarray, and yes, the St. Mungo’s Sealed Ward _had_ given him a clean bill of mental health when he briefly checked himself into there, thank you very much…

But it wasn’t as if he could gainsay Harry. Who would ever listen to him, compared to the Chosen One? What was his word, beside that of the Boy-Who-Lived?

_Eternally overshadowed…_

Life with Hermione was – well, everyone except for Harry, Neville, and Luna said he didn’t deserve her, anyway. He supposed he had to be grateful for what it was. He did love her, even if they argued and – It was his fault, for making her angry. She had a bad temper; he supposed women did. Ginny had hexed people pretty often once she got into her tough stage, and even if Lavender had just broken down into tears and he’d never seen Luna really lose her temper… Well, that was them. Her job was stressful – it was understandable, he guessed. Not that he’d ever lay a hand on her, but like he said, he wasn’t a woman… 

It was fine, anyway.  He’d gotten pretty good at healing bruises and covering up those he couldn’t when he went out in public. No one needed to know the extent to which his wife couldn’t stand him. They’d all say it was his fault for getting her mad, anyway.

She never hit Harry, after all; when Harry so much as aimed a resentful stare her way, she scrambled to do her best to appease him on the spot. If he’d been Harry, she’d have thought better of him. Whether she loved Harry like a sibling or not, she certainly loved Harry more…

_Least loved, now, by the girl who prefers your friend…_

It might not have been a great life, he admitted to himself in quiet moments late at night as he bent over paperwork and wrapped a long bandage around his arm to cover the consequences of Hermione’s latest fury, but it was the best he could expect.

_Why return?_

Why return, indeed?

And sometimes, in his dreams, beyond what even he would admit to himself, he dreamt that he had given in to the Horcrux. And he dreamt of horrors, and the atrocities that would follow, and the end of all hope –

But he dreamt that when he knelt before the Dark Lord under the locket’s compulsion, his hands dripping with well-loved blood, Wormtail’s mocking greetings echoing in his ears, and the stink of slaughter filling his nostrils, that, for the first time in his life, he was truly free.

He woke, shuddering, and could never remember that of which he dreamed; still, even in ignorance of his dreams, he knew that he endured the day so that he could, at its end, embrace every precious hour of sleep that he could before the beginning of the next.

_You are nothing, nothing, nothing…_

All he knew, in his heart of hearts, was that he would do anything, anything, anything to escape this world of Harry’s happy ending, and hide himself away in a world where all was unwell.


End file.
